


Forenoon

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Dresses, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 18:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20821505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Elrond visits Gondor.





	Forenoon

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Another dress fic oops.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Despite all the destruction and devastation, Gondor is coming back into its own. It hasn’t yet reached the splendor of old, but the streets feel lighter than they did when Elrond was younger. The shadows are gone for good now, so his heart isn’t so heavy. Estel has taken his rightful place on the throne, and Gondor couldn’t ask for a better king, nor a greater queen. 

He knows now his time is limited. Elrond had meant to sail, and still will soon enough, but before that time comes, he wants to visit his daughter as often as he can. She’s always there to great him at the gates, looking just as young and beautiful as she did in her quarters in Imladris, if not more so, because now she’s chosen her true path. A part of him is saddened by it, but the rest is proud of her. He doesn’t begrudge the life she’s chosen or the love she chose it for. Estel is already a son to him, and he’s happy to see them both when his party arrives in their capitol.

He has a splendid evening with them, a lovely feast, and a pleasant night’s sleep in the heavy stone buildings of Men. In the morning, they share breakfast, then tea, and he walks with them through the open halls of their sprawling keep. Then duty inevitably calls, and Estel is whisked away for greater things. Arwen would stay with her father, but Elrond bids her leave; even now, he wouldn’t monopolize her whole day. Besides, his party has spread out amongst the city, and he must meet with them as well. 

With a tender hug, she leaves him, and Elrond is free to drift about the white city as he wishes. He walks the cobbled streets with an eye for the new trees growing and the old wounds healing—the king and queen have done well in their restoration. Elrond’s troop has brought help, of course, and he passes several of his own gardeners in the courtyards, politely instructing Men on how to care for the greenery gifted to them. His minstrels are scattered about the busy streets, bringing cheer in another form. A few are simply perusing local shops and reveling in differences: the elves who have never left Imladris are all wide-eyed and awe-struck.

Elrond tries not to play favourites amongst his people, but nevertheless, he does have one, and he finds that favourite across a bustling square. Lindir emerges from a little clothing shop with a basket over one shoulder, stuffed to the brim with his old robes. His form is wrapped in new fabric—a lightweight, flowing dress that cascades down his slender body. Clean white but painted with yellow flowers, the lace-rimmed skirt rustles in the early breeze. Lindir lifts his head towards the sky, shielding his eyes with one hand: the sun beats down on them and casts his pale skin in a warm golden glow. His long hair swishes merrily behind him, oddly free of any braids or ties. He looks particularly beautiful for the newness of the vision: seeing him in such strange clothing is a rare delight. 

Elrond weaves over to him without hesitation. Lindir spots him immediately and dons a welcome smile, greeting with a short bow, “Good morning, my lord.”

“To you as well, my Lindir,” Elrond answers, even more enamoured with the view up close. The dress is cut low enough across Lindir’s breast to expose his collarbone and shoulders, his bare arms ready for the rising sun. It makes Elrond feel over dressed in his usual thick robes. But he couldn’t be prouder to have such a lovely creature on his arm.

He offers that arm, knowing that Lindir will take it. Indeed, Lindir wraps one hand around it, the other resting overtop, effectively sealing the two of them together. Elrond asks, “Would you care for a walk?”

Lindir says, “Of course, my lord. You know that I would follow you anywhere.”

Elrond does know that now, and he’s immensely pleased for it. He guides them off down another winding path and enjoys the wondrous morning.


End file.
